


Smutty One-Shot

by abeautifulmessofcontradictions, TheTwoFlamingos, tinyPsycho77



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Job, Bondage and Discipline, Cock Ring, F/M, Flogging, Hand Job, Out of Character, Sex, Smut, Wartenberg Wheel, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6273301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeautifulmessofcontradictions/pseuds/abeautifulmessofcontradictions, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTwoFlamingos/pseuds/TheTwoFlamingos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyPsycho77/pseuds/tinyPsycho77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red teases Lizzie by flaunting another woman in her face. She invites him into the playroom where she is more than happy to beat the arrogance out of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smutty One-Shot

**Author's Note:**

> OOC w/ mild BDSM themes
> 
> We do not own any characters or anything from The Blacklist; just playing!

Red silently pushed the door open, taking care to listen for the telltale creak of the hinges. It struck him as ridiculous that he was sneaking into his own home, but Liz had left him a rather disconcerting voicemail earlier, and he was nervous about what might be lurking behind the door. 

He peered over his shoulder at Dembe and gave his best friend a slight nod before disappearing into the brownstone.

His cellphone pinged.  _ Red, come to the playroom. _

Red gulped thickly.  _ Shit! _

The only reason he would be summoned to the playroom was because he had done something to upset her. He forced his feet to carry him to the solid oak door that lead down into the basement, his mind was racing, trying to process the past two weeks for any grievous indiscretion that he had committed. 

More than anything, he wanted to turn around and run back to the car, but that would only serve to ignite Liz’s temper, which was not something Red  _ ever  _ wanted to provoke. With each step he took, he felt the cold grip of anxiousness settle over him. Hoping to gain a modicum of leeway, Red quickened his pace down the stairs. 

“Reddington.”

He faltered on the last step and his hand shot out to keep him from falling as his eyes adjusted to the glow of candlelight.   

Liz stretched across the black leather divan, reclining against the armrest. Her black satin corset gave the illusion of tight cinching, but was actually quite comfortable. His eyes fluttered nervously over her and she smiled wickedly. His unease was so blatant. She would have to use that to her advantage. She crooked a finger at him, bidding him enter her sanctuary.

Tentatively, he took a step towards her, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over his furrowed brow.

“Lizzie?” 

“Would you care to explain yourself?” Her words cut through the thick tension of the room.

Red fiddled with the cuffs of his suit jacket, her chastising tone made him feel like he was standing in front of his high school principal “It would help if I knew what you were talking about.”

Liz gracefully swung her legs off the settee, her patent leather stilettos clattering against the tile. She paced toward him, a caged tiger playing with her prey. “This will be your one and only opportunity to admit and apologize.” 

Red tilted his head, his eyes searched hers for some clue,  _ any _ clue as to what she was talking about. His mind was still sorting through weeks of internal filing, he was sure he had been a good boy these past few weeks. “Honestly, Lizzie, I can’t think of anything.”

One brilliant crimson lacquered nail grazed the front of his tie. Her eyes narrowed to match her sarcasm. “Really?” She gripped a handful of the silk viciously. “ _ Reddybear?”  _ she hissed, her voice dripping venom.

Red’s face balanced. “Oh... _ fuck _ .”

“‘Oh fuck’ is right.” She paced a slow circle around him, trailing the tie around his neck. “Did you really think I was going to forget about that?”

“I can explain!” Red’s mind was racing, working out an explanation that would satisfy her.

In truth, he had flirted with Lauren on purpose, hoping to get a reaction out of the stoic FBI agent, but this...this was not what he had expected. 

“There is no  _ explanation _ that I am interested in hearing from you. You had an opportunity to  _ explain _ but you chose to “forget” the severe transgression you committed and now…” She stopped in front of him. “Well, now I’m afraid it’s just too late.” The stinging slap rebounded in the quiet of the room.

His head snapped to the side; the burning sensation in his cheek sent a jolt of arousal through his system. His body temperature spiked and he suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing so many layers.  

She spun and stalked away from him, crossing to the stainless steel pegboard along the wall. “You will be made to atone for your intentional insult and you  _ will _ regret your actions.” 

Red cocked an eyebrow at her leather-clad derriere as it swished away from him across the floor. He let out a soft sigh of relief.  _ So, she wants to play, does she?  _ His attitude went from nervous to playful in one second flat. He loved it when she let out her inner dominatrix, and he loved pushing her even more.

“You have no proof that my insult was, as you put it, intentional.” 

He knew he was playing with fire, challenging her this way, but that made the experience all the better... for the both of them.

She froze, mid-step, and turned with the same dangerous focus as a coiled snake before it strikes. Her words were measured, even, and deadly quiet. “What?” She paused, one eyebrow strikingly high. “Would you care to try that again?”

Red turned back towards the stairs, shrugging out of his suit jacket and slinging it casually over the balustrade. He slowly removed his black fedora and laid it on top of the expensive fabric. His lips twitched into a smirk. The silence between them was deafening.

He refused to look at her. “You heard me the first time.”

Her lips curled into an evil smile and she nodded. Without warning, her face contorted into an angry snarl. “You are going to pay for that.” She gave him her back. “Strip. And kneel on the bed.”

Red sluggishly turned his head to take in her form, debating on whether he should obey her command or see how far he could push her. This little game she was playing was one that they had indulged in before and each time he made it his own personal mission to push her further and further. 

She perused the wall leisurely, revising her strategy. She had planned some light slap and tickle to punish him for taunting her with Lauren during their interview, but his insolence could not go unpunished. He clearly wanted to play, so she would appease him. She was more than happy to beat the arrogance out of him.

Red toed his shoes off as he slowly unbuttoned his vest, drawing out the motion for as long as he could without inviting further fury from the brunette, and draped it over the bannister next to his jacket. His tie, shirt pants and socks soon joined the vest. He slipped his thumbs under the edge of his boxer-briefs, easing the elastic down past his hips. It would be so easy to remove the last remaining piece of clothing and bend to her will.  _ But where’s the fun in that?  _ He stopped suddenly, a smirk gracing his lips as he pulled the garment back into place. He straightened up and waited for Liz.

She selected several pieces from the vast array of whips and canes on the wall, draping her selections over her arm like articles of clothing she intended to take to the dressing room. She crossed to the upholstered ottoman in the sitting area and knelt beside it, balanced precariously on her towering heels, and opened the top. She removed the last item she needed and replaced the lid, rising and turning to find him still standing exactly where she had left him.

Cold fury spilled through her veins at his insubordinance. Her voice carried loudly across the soundproofed space. “Did you misunderstand my directions or are you being deliberately obtuse?”

He smirked at her in silence. 

Angrily, she threw the armful of toys to the floor and whirled back to the wall of deadly looking implements. She whipped a long jagged blade from its sheath on the wall and advanced on him, irritation sparking in her eyes.

He stiffened at her approach, taking a step back from her.

Her hand shot out and gripped a fistful of silk, hauling him bodily against her. She twisted her wrist downward, laying the flat of the blade vertically against his stomach, the cold metal angled down toward his most beloved body part. 

“Are you sure you want to cross me?” She ground out between gritted teeth. 

His eyes reflected the slightest hint of fear.

She drew the blade sharply down, parting the fabric of his boxers, slicing them from his body. The silk gave up its struggle easily, whispering to the floor. She flung the knife to the floor with a clatter and smirked up at him. “Now, get on the bed.”

“Yes, mistress.” It was clear that she was not playing around. 

All pretense of the game abandoned, he walked quickly to the massive mahogany bed. He climbed onto the tall bed and sprawled in the center of the mattress, compliant, waiting.

Liz collected the abandoned toys, allowing her anger to cool sufficiently before she joined him. She regarded him dispassionately. “Raise your arms, Reddington.”

He hurried to obey, hands stretching towards the upholstered headboard, reaching for the supple dark leather. 

She placed each instrument on the bed individually, slapping them audibly against the silk sheets. A small thrill pulsed through her every time he jumped at the sound.

“You have been very naughty, haven’t you?” She paused for him to nod. “That’s right. And you deserve to be punished, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.” His whimpered assent brought a smile to her cherry lips.

She knelt and retrieved the first cuff of the under-the-bed restraint system from below the edge of the bed, snapping the cool metal around one of his wrists.  

He watched her circle the bed with wide eyes.

She pulled the nylon strap taut along the side of the bed, soft so as not to damage the wood, and the second handcuff clicked into place, his arms spread out and above his head.

She circled back, stopping at the foot of the bed, ignoring the ankle restraints. She wouldn’t have him there for long anyway.

She selected a small Wartenberg wheel from her pile of toys, running the spikes gently along her palm. “Oh, Reddington,” she tsked softly at him. “You really should have done what you were told.”

She grasped one of his ankles in her hand firmly and ran the tiny metal wheel up his shin, eliciting a gasp from him. She smiled at the sound and repeated the movement, skimming the spikes along the edge of his smoothly muscled calf. She increased the pressure slightly and alternated her passes between the two parts of his leg, careful to avoid running it over the bone. 

Red twitched under her movements, his head pinned back against the mattress, breath huffing from between clenched teeth. When his skin was tingling and patterned, she switched to the other leg, forcing a hiss from him at her first swipe.

He closed his eyes, solely focused on the feelings that this vixen was bestowing on his body. He strained hard against the bindings on his wrists, welcoming the pain of the metal biting into his flesh. He chewed on his lip, physically halting all sound from escaping his mouth. He had already incurred her wrath once thus far; he didn’t want to do it again so soon by breaking her ‘no sound’ rule. 

Liz watched with mild pride at his restraint and, while she reveled in it, she wanted him to slip again. Slowly she trailed the wheel up the inside of his thigh; dangerously close to where he wanted her most. 

His body arched off the bed when she completely bypassed his sac. “ _ Lizzie.” _

Her hand came down on his other thigh; the sharp slap echoed loudly in their little heaven. “Shut up!”

Red whipped his head up, his green eyes flashed violently for a brief moment before he schooled himself. He swallowed another groan when she resumed her tortuous movements.

“You like this, don’t you, Reddington?” Her voice seductively mocked him, darkly carnal with a hint of danger layered beneath.  “You like submitting to me. The big, bad crime lord giving himself over to the FBI agent.”

She pushed the wheel forward, tracing along his hip flexor and up his rib cage. “Tell me, Reddington, tell me how much you love belonging to me.”

His breath was exiting through his nose in rapid pants, yet he didn’t answer. She grabbed his balls and squeezed, pulling a grunt from him.

“Why must you persist on being defiant?” She tugged on him, more gently this time.

His body went into sensory overload. 

“Yes,” he panted. “Yes, I love it.”

“You love  _ what?” _ she growled, tightening her grip on his tender region.

Red gasped out finally, “Being yours!”

“Good boy! See, that wasn’t so hard.” She maintained her grip on him and reached over his body; snagging the vibrating cock ring on the sheets and tossing the wheel aside. 

Red followed her movements, his excitement kicking up a notch when her long, delicate fingers closed around the one toy that reduced him to a quivering mess. There was something insanely erotic about watching her grip his cock with one hand, stretching out the ring with the other and slipping the silicone over the thick head of cock. She knew just how to grip him and it took an immense amount of willpower for him to not blow all over her hand.

Liz straightened up, admiring her handiwork; it didn't matter how many times they did this, the sight of this man completely at her mercy never failed to do delicious things to her insides. She was tempted to just throw herself on top of him and ride him hard, but she was trying to prove a point. He was  _ hers _ and she would be damned if she let him forget it.

“You know, I had planned some light play, but now I have to punish you for your insolence.” She climbed onto the bed, settling herself between his legs, she reached forward and turned the ring on.

“Oh, jesus!” He couldn’t stop the words from escaping as the vibrations pulsed through his shaft. 

She moved up his body, giving in to her desire to feel him underneath her. “I’m going to forgive that little slip up, Reddington, but if you can’t keep your mouth shut…” She roughly grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at her, “Then I’m going to gag you.”

Liz’s lips twitched at the sight of his jaw clenching. “Good. Now, you are going to stay perfectly still.” She straddled his waist, gasping when she felt his cock brush against her clit where the crotchless leather panties left her bare. She rubbed against him; her body quickened in response, slickness pooling in her core. “You are not going to move at all. Understood?”

“Yes, mistress.” He was too far gone now to even think about further defying her.

She reached between them, and seized him in an iron grip; his eyes rolled back in his skull.

“Look at me!” The demand slipped from her mouth with the harshness of a whip, and he quickly followed her order.

Without breaking eye contact, she slowly lowered herself down on him, letting out a moan as he stretched her out. Once she was fully seated in his lap, Liz let her eyes slip closed, giving herself a moment to  _ feel _ him within her.

He tensed, muscles straining; it took everything he had in him not to thrust up into her heat. The sensation of her wet body around him and the vibrations rushing through him was overwhelming. 

After a heartbeat of inaction, Liz braced herself, her fingers tangling in his chest hair, tugging gently. She opened her eyes and was pleased to see his eyes still glued to her. She began to move, slowly rocking back and forth.

Red quaked beneath her as she rode him, his breathing was labored and he tried to think of anything other than the beautiful woman above him. He was desperate to touch her, to feel her skin under his fingertips, to feel her nipples harden under his palms. This woman was slowly driving him insane with need. 

She moaned wantonly, grinding her hips down on him, riding out her own selfish need. Her lips parted on a sigh, gasping each time she bottomed out on his length.

“You know if you come I will hurt you, don’t you, Reddington?”

His face broke and he whimpered beneath her, a high wanting sound keening from the back of his throat.

She laughed harshly and raked her nails down his chest, searching for purchase as she ground out an increasingly haphazard rhythm with her hips as she began to lose control. One hand slipped between them to caress her clit, rubbing in rapid circles as she took her pleasure from his body. 

He fought to keep his body still, to let her use him for her pleasure, her own personal sex toy. He ground his teeth together with the effort not to thrust his hips up into her own, to seek his own release. He railed against the urge to rut against her and come inside her hot, tight corridor.

She writhed against him as she came, her chest dropping forward where she caught herself with one arm braced against his chest. 

He forgot about his own agony for a moment as he watched her come apart above him,  _ on _ him. There was nothing in his life that pleased him more than watching her pleasure explode across her face, feeling her body clench his uncontrollably.

When she could open her eyes again, she found his heated gaze on hers. She tamped down on the sudden surge of tenderness she felt for him, forcing herself back into Dominatrix mode, resuming the scene.

“Mmmm,” she sighed, rolling her head back. “You are such a good boy,” she cooed at him. “I might even let you come later.”

She pushed herself off of his body, swinging one leg over his hips. She climbed off the bed and sashayed to the bathroom, leaving him wanting and needy on the bed with the ring still pulsating around his stiff cock.

She took her time cleaning herself up with the fluffy, soft towels they kept there. She touched up her makeup, adding another layer of crimson to her pouty lips. She smiled at her face in the mirror as she washed her hands. She was struck by sudden inspiration and she reached into the cabinet again.

Red’s eyes were closed when he felt the bed dip again beneath her weight. His breath hissed from between his teeth when the cold water trickled over his fevered skin. His eyes flew open to find her smirking above him as she wrung a small hand towel over his flesh. He shivered in response, but won the battle to keep from thrashing at her treatment.

Her hand skimmed over his straining cock, the heat a sharp contrast to her torture. He thrust his length into her hand, unable to stop himself when she closed her fingers around him. A sharp jerk in response made him regret forgetting his place.

Her voice was hard and unforgiving. “I thought you knew better.” She released him, pushing away from his body. “And to think, you were sooo close to getting exactly what you want.” She observed him for a moment, tsking at him quietly with a disappointed shake of her head. “But instead, you’re going to get what you  _ deserve.” _

He felt the handcuffs give way around his wrists and then she was pulling him up off the bed, leading him to the far side of the room. He followed her obediently as she pushed him up against the beams of the massive St. Andrew’s Cross standing against one wall.

She grasped one of his wrists in her hand and slammed it against the wood, earning a grunt from his pursed lips. She held him in place unnecessarily; he would do anything she asked at this point. Swiftly she buckled one wrist and then the other to the cross, kneeling to attach his ankles as well. 

She stood back to admire her work, smiling at the picture he made. His eyes were cast downward obediently, his breathing ragged as he waited for her.

Leaving him, she retraced her steps to the bed. She sifted through the discarded toys and crimson sheets, until her fingers closed around the smooth hilt. With a gentle tug, the leather straps came free of the pile. She passed the thongs through her fingers, combing it out lovingly. She carried at her hip, the pieces tossing quietly against her thigh as she walked back.

She stood in front of him and let him see the whip. She wanted him to watch. She took a deep breath.

“You’re going to count for me, do you understand?” 

He nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation.

She pulled her hand back to shoulder height and waited, letting his apprehension build. Without warning, she let the whip fly, the leather straps landing diagonally across his chest.

Red surged forward. “One.” 

She brought the hilt across her body and sent it flying at him again, across the opposite side of his chest.

The second blow had him clenching his fists tightly. “Two”

As she worked her way down his body, the power of her strikes increased, the next one catching him low across his belly. 

“T-three.” He hissed through clenched teeth, his torso was on fire, and he was dangerously close.

Benevolently, she bypassed his straining erection and laid the leather down across one of his thighs.

“Fuck!” He pulled at his restraints, his body spasming in painful pleasure. 

She dropped the whip to her side abruptly, her face instantly furious. She stepped closer to him, her voice low and rasping and dangerous. “I’m sorry, is “fuck” another way to say “four?” 

His head snapped up. “Four, mistress, four, sorry.”

She regarded him cooly. “I don’t think you have nearly enough respect for what you are supposed to be doing.  _ You have one fucking job, Reddington.” _

She laid one harsh slap to the side of his face and sighed. “Now...do you think you can remember to count properly?” 

“Yes, mistress.”

“Good.” She resumed her earlier position and flicked the cat over his other thigh much harder than the previous punishments had been.

She forced him to count the remaining six lashes, each one delivered more fiercely than the rest. Sweat poured off his body with the effort he exerted to meet her demands. His body turned a pleasing shade of pink and she smiled at the blush of his heated skin beneath the stark black coils of her whip. When, at last, the leather straps had sung against his skin for the final time, she dropped the whip to the floor, both of them panting. 

She watched him, his body sagging against the beams, his turgid length straining against the punishing ring. She stepped into him, one hand touching his chest briefly. “I am so proud of you, Raymond,” the change in her use of his name alerted him to their transition; she was easing him out of their scene. Her hand dropped to his waist, slipping the ring off him. 

“Alright, big boy, time to come.”

She dropped to her knees, wrapping her hand around him, enjoying the soft moans that she pulled from him. She dipped her head, circling her tongue around the head of his cock, relishing in the way he tensed.

She braced one hand on his thigh and gripped him at the base with the other. She sucked at the tip, lapping up the pre-cum before sucking him down. 

“Lizzie, Lizzie come here, please.” 

She pulled her mouth off him and rose to her feet, keeping one hand wrapped around him. She felt him swell in her hand and sealed her mouth over his as he shuddered gasping into her mouth, his hot seed coated her hand and wrist. She smiled against his lips as he sighed in relief.

She retreated to the bathroom quickly for a clean towel. She returned to him, gently wiping away the evidence of his release. She leaned her upper body into his for a moment. 

He sighed, resting his head against her shoulder. 

She smiled against the side of his head. She uncuffed the hand she could reach and then reluctantly stepped away from him to release the remaining restraints.

The cuffs slipped from his limbs and he stepped away from the St. Andrews Cross. He fell to his knees before her in adulation, in prayer. He grasped her gently, cupping the smooth flesh at the back of each knee. He worshipped her with his touch, his fingertips trailing up the backs of her thighs as he raised his face to look at her. 

Her lips parted slightly and her eyes were soft on his face. Her expression told him everything he needed to know.

His hands grazed the rounded globes of her backside, palms flattening over the supple leather. He sought out the silken ties at her back, undressing her in adoration. He tugged the fabric from her body, discarding it behind him. He placed his hands on the creamy skin of her back, pulling her towards him, his face upturned to hers. He closed his eyes reverently, pressing his lips to the slightly rounded bump of her abdomen.

Her hand rested on the soft fuzz of his head, fingers stroking gently downward to curl around his ear. She smiled down at him, her face gone soft and wistful now that the drama of the evening was over.

He buried his face against her stomach and whispered nonsense words against it, laying tiny kisses all along her skin.

“Love you,” she murmured contentedly when he nuzzled his nose against her, his lashes batting tiny butterfly kisses across the plane of her belly.

 

He climbed up and swept her into his arms. He carried her swiftly back to the bed. One arm sweeping their toys aside. He laid her gently on the satin and lay down beside her, propped on one elbow above her. 

She gazed up at him, waiting, ready to cede control over to him now. 

“I’m sorry about Lauren.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. I know you were doing it on purpose and I have no doubt where your true affections lie.” She caressed her fingers down his bicep. “It was just the perfect opportunity to play with you.” She smiled up at him.

He brought his other hand to trace along her cheekbone lovingly. “I love you so much.” His words were tinged with the intensity he felt for her. 

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her gently, carefully, as if she were precious and perfect and his. She opened for him and his tongue slipped past her lips, a slow dance of passion with hers. He pulled back from her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, smiling at her sigh.

He gathered her into his chest and held her until they both fell asleep, one of his hands resting protectively over the place where she carried his child.


End file.
